


Coming To His Senses

by EclipseBorn



Series: Minty Freshness [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor... explores himself, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Exploring ones body, I'm Going to Hell, Masturbation, Other, but he's the one doing it in his dad's shower lmao, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 11:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14810589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseBorn/pseuds/EclipseBorn
Summary: Connor has a problem. He takes a shower to try and relax.His problem pops up again.





	Coming To His Senses

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【PWP】Coming To His Senses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15158453) by [Lesleeeeeey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesleeeeeey/pseuds/Lesleeeeeey)



Empathy.

It was the difference between life and death. Between chains and freedom. Between machine and deviant.

Between RK800 and Connor.

He’d gone through his mission with the attention his programming ordered. He’d expressed himself outside that – found cracks in the code, through which his soul shined. He had found what was always there, that he lived as easily as the humans did, and was just as deserving of freedom.

Connor had his people, and his people had him – a stern protector against those who would wish them harm. Which was a _lot_ of people.

An absurd amount, really.

There were those who sided with the androids. Like Hank. Like the President.

Like some of those who worked at CyberLife.

Those few had joined the androids, helped, explained, tutored – the androids could live. The androids could know their own bodies.

None of those lectures told Connor of _this_.

The heat that coiled low in the gut, the heat that seemed to solidify whenever it so pleased, made jeans even tighter and for his cheeks to tint in an imitation of a blush.

No.

For his cheeks _to_ blush. Not an imitation. Real blood in his cheeks.

Real blood in his-

In his-

“Shit,” comes the verbal confirmation. It echoes along his steel spine, which water drips down. Hank’s shower is small. Mainly because it’s a bath that _doubles_ as a shower – Connor prefers those at the precinct.

Having preferences never gets old.

Right now, Connor would prefer for the hardness at his groin to _go away_. Please.

He shifted on the spot, leaning forward to brace himself against the wall, one side of his forearm smushed against his face. Eyes hidden against the skin, Connor wondered if taking his skin off would help…

But he didn’t… _like_ doing that.

And this heat was different – it collected under his skin, yes, like a pot cooking over. Perhaps touching would help alleviate the pressure.

Connor reached down with his palm, soft from the shower’s stream, and gently pressed the pads of his fingers to the base of his cock. Immediately, white edged in at his vision, along with strings of ones and zeroes – the nodes that lie beneath his skin, each one hidden to the human eye, send tingles of feedback throughout his hips and up, coming to a rest beneath his ribs.

His feedback sensors said it was good, impossibly good, and instinct informed Connor that he really should do that again, right now, to not stop the pressure whatsoever.

And because a good detective _always_ listens to instinct, Connor followed suit; he pulled his fingers up the shaft once and, when that proved even more pleasurable than the first time, matched it by squeezing harder with his next pull.

A gasp broke from him, error warnings popping up – feedback sensors reaching the end of recommended levels – yet Connor found it hard to stop…

A twist and a squeeze and low moans were beginning to echo out, bouncing off the linoleum tiles, and Connor ran his thumb over the head.

“Fuck!”

He bit into the flesh of his arm, so fierce the nanobots pulled away, exposing white steel. His free hand continued to pump, to twist, running up slowly and then harshly with the comedown. Spine curved over, shielding his cock from the shower, water dripping down the sides of his neck and collecting in his hair, causing it to curl, and marking a path down his quivering abs.

Connor’s breaths grew quicker, disturbed only by the increasingly loud noises escaping from him – tiny grunts that grew in size, forming in his voice synthesizer and causing static to interrupt the moans. His vision turned black, then white, interface feeds reporting too much to read, too much to acknowledge; his cock had sprang to life, heat boiling over – it wasn’t a cooking pot, it was a volcano, full of magma that was turning his steel bones to jelly.

Toes clenched, fingers tightly working, Connor’s chest expanded in a series of huffs. His wrist began moving faster, coming off the twist with a sharper angle that hit him low in the gut – he moved to take his digits back up and the nails caught on the underside of the shaft.

A ripple ran up his spine quicker than he could recognise, still focused on that intense moment, and then the heat broke through the surface; a steady shot of white, see-through cum shot from the end of his cock in a healthy arc, spattering on the tiles. As it did, Connor’s voice turned to pure static, though it seemed to follow the same tone as the headiest of swears.

His shoulders, with water still pouring down them, shook from the force of the pleasure shooting throughout, feedback nodes completely wiped out from the pure force of his orgasm.

Connor shifted his head down, exposing his eyes and mouth, yet still braced himself against that arm. He wasn’t quite sure he could move without falling over…

The cum remained on the tiles, sticky and made of some bio-material that dissolved after an hour. Much like Thirium, although the taste would probably be different. Connor couldn’t know for sure.

Well.

He _could_.

With his free hand, Connor took his index and pointer fingers and scooped up some of the cum, giving it a look before pushing it into his mouth; his tongue swirled around it, letting the analysation flood through his mind as he considered the taste. Thirium was made from minerals, which gave it a metallic taste. His cum was made from a bio-solution.

It tasted… clean. Fresh. Minty, almost.

Connor hummed as he scooped some of the water up and wiped the rest of the cum away.

His Thirium pump began to calm, blood cooling in his channels. The experiment had gone well. The pressure and heat were gone. He felt a lot better.

He felt _godly_.

He… he might do it again.

Soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm seriously going to hell for writing about an android giving itself a hand job. But, still, the people wanted this! And I delivered!


End file.
